


A Modest Proposal

by prairiecrow



Series: Terra Incognita [18]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Knight Rider (1982), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, Hospitals, M/M, Major Character Injury, Steve Rogers Doesn't Always Follow Orders
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-01
Updated: 2013-12-01
Packaged: 2018-01-03 05:26:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1066289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prairiecrow/pseuds/prairiecrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve Rogers defied a direct order by Nick Fury in order to pull Tony Stark's and KITT's asses out of the fire — but now that they're back on American soil, things are only just starting to get really interesting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Modest Proposal

At shortly after 4 a.m. on a Tuesday morning the ICU waiting room at Bellevue was nearly deserted: the triage nurses had made some noises of protest about S.H.I.E.L.D.'s summary takeover of part of their unit, but a few flashed badges and a wall of implacable faces had quashed the rebellion pretty darned quick. It had to have helped that Captain America, still in full superhero uniform, was leading the charge, and that the rumpled bloody form at the centre of the maelstrom was none other than Tony Stark, world-famous billionaire, currently sedated into unconsciousness because he'd seared the flesh off the palms of his hands by firing repulsor bolts through them, and because the endo-suit he'd installed inside his own muscles had inflicted appalling amounts of internal trauma when he'd deployed it in a desperate attempt to save the one thing he couldn't live without.

That "thing", or what was left of it after the Moira's tender ministrations and the exertions of trying to escape a S.H.A.D.O.W. base, had been taken back to Stark Tower by Thor and Bruce Banner, where the driving intelligence inhabiting it had transferred into one of his other possible bodies, the one closest to human, and raced to Bellevue almost fast enough to leave a sonic boom behind. But KITT had gotten no further than the waiting room where Steve had been relegated to sitting and staring at his hands: Tony was in surgery, and there was nothing any of them could do until it was over — except try to come to terms with the fact that he might not make it.

KITT — Kitt Silver, in his present body — hadn't been inclined to settle down to a quiet vigil. He'd been pacing for the last two and a half hours, audibly berating Tony and S.H.A.D.O.W. and the Moira, and most keenly blaming himself for his pilot's current position in Death's shadow. Bruce and Thor had taken point on that front, countering Kitt's every pained declaration with repeated assurances that he wasn't to blame for Tony's choices… and it was just as well, because Steve, super-soldier though he was, was utterly exhausted in every dimension and just wanted to sit quietly in his seat of scuffed fake leather and tired cushions, cowl stripped down to the back of his neck, sipping a ginger ale and reflecting on his own part in all of this. Natasha and Clint had disappeared practically the second the quinjet had touched down, and were probably getting their asses handed to them by Nick Fury, an experience that Steve would no doubt soon have the pleasure of experiencing for himself: after all, it had been his command decision to divert from the Somalia mission the team had been assigned and follow Tony instead — 

— and even if he was going to be acquiring a new asshole in the near future, he didn't regret that choice for a second. If the Avengers hadn't shown up, Tony and KITT would have died in the depths of the Moira's hidden base: they'd been only seconds away from being hit by a fatal missile strike when the Hulk had crashed through walls to take the hit for them. And if Steve was being perfectly honest with himself, he had to admit that he'd made the decision to ignore the Somalia orders well before he'd told Clint to turn the quinjet north over Egypt: he'd really made it during his final conversation with Tony, in Tony's workshop, when Tony had made it brutally clear that he wasn't going to be along for the ride.

He could remember the cold clear gaze of Tony's dark eyes, grim with disbelief: _You really expect me to come running when Fury calls, don't you? Even now, when she's made it clear that it's either come for him or watch him die?_

 _Tony,_ Steve had said patiently, even though the thought of the kind of death KITT was facing sent a cold chill up the back of his neck, _you know it's a trap, right? She's calling all the shots — if you follow her instructions, she'll kill you both._

 _And if I don't follow her instructions, she'll send me a blow-by-blow tape of KITT being ripped apart._ He'd glared at Steve, his jaw working fitfully, before turning away decisively, waving one hand as if banishing a troublesome fly. _Run along, Cap — I think I hear your master's voice calling._

 _Tony._ He'd stepped close, reached out toward that stiff back, laid a firm hand on one hard shoulder in an attempt to make the connection his words were obviously failing to establish. _Come with us, and as soon as we've wrapped up —_

 _You don't get it, do you?_ Tony had bowed his head, his voice low and raw, his fists clenching at his sides. _I don't have a choice. Maybe I never did. He gave himself to me, do you realize that? Not just what he can do for me: everything that he_ ** _is_** _, with no reservations and no exceptions. He belongs to me completely, and he's never asked for anything in return, except —_ His voice choked briefly, until he coughed it away and continued more briskly: _— except that I love him, and that's something I can't help doing any more than I can help breathing. If we both get out of this alive I'm going to do more for him, so much more... I'm going to make it right. And that's why I can't just follow Fury's orders like a good little toy soldier and leave him there to die._

_Tony —_

_Go on, Steve. Somalia needs the Avengers. And KITT needs me. Later on we'll get together, have a few beers and share war stories —_

He put a note of unmistakeable command into his voice: _The Moira intends to kill you._

 _She intends to try, maybe._ He'd raised his head, turned back with a little jerk that dislodged Steve's hand from his shoulder, and met Steve's gaze with an expression of such ferocity that it struck Steve with something like awe. _But all she's going to get is a short hard lesson in what a_ ** _spectacularly_** _bad idea it is to take what's mine._

Looking into Tony's face, Steve had seen that no argument he was capable of mustering would do any good. All he had to offer was a simple assurance that might not be anywhere near enough: _We'll come for you._

 _Yeah._ Tony had glared at him for a couple of seconds before some of the tension in his shoulders eased, replaced by a narrow tired smile. _Yeah, I know you will. Just — take care of him if I don't make it back, okay? He'll need you, all of you — but especially you, Steve. And if this really goes pear-shaped, at least try to make sure you bury us together._

Steve had stepped in again, reaching down to take hold of Tony's forearm and guide it up so that he could clasp it firmly. _We'll come,_ he'd repeated, gazing into those weary eyes so full of sustained anguish and barely restrained fury… and yes, enduring and unquenchable love. He'd known for a long time how Tony felt about KITT, but seeing it like this, so naked and intimate, cut him to the quick.

 _Get out of here,_ Tony had said with a trace of fondness, turning back to whatever that tangle of equipment on his workbench was… and Steve had gone, already fighting the internal battle that would ultimately culminate in defying Fury's direct orders.

Now, back on US soil in the wee hours before dawn, he sipped his can of flat-tasting ginger ale from a vending machine and watched the tableau near the heavily curtained window: Kitt, standing between Thor and Bruce, gazing fixedly out at the faintly blushing eastern sky while the physicist murmured calming words and Thor rested a supportive hand on the android's shoulder. There was an expression on those artificial features that shouldn't have been possible from a mere machine: it had, in fact, too many things in common with Tony's expression during that final conversation for Steve to be anywhere close to comfortable with it. It suggested that Kitt too was only seconds away from doing something — anything — on his lover's behalf, and Steve had spent the past couple of hours waiting for the android to turn on his heel and stride past the nurse's station, setting off a chain reaction that couldn't possibly end in anything but chaos and — 

"Mister Silver?" A female voice made Steve look up and around. A plump nurse stood at the entry to the waiting area with a clipboard in hand and the air of someone who'd seen stranger things on her ward than a sentient robot, the Hulk's alter ego, and couple of strapping blond men dressed up as superheroes. "Mister Kitt Silver?"

"Yes?" Kitt's voice was tight, poised on the verge between anticipation and apprehension.

"Mister Stark is ready to see you now." The expression on her face strongly suggested that _ready to see you_ was a euphemism for _demanding to see you and refusing to take 'no' for an answer_. "He's also requested that you bring Doctor Banner with you, as well as someone you trust."

"Someone I _trust?_ "

"Those were his exact words."

Steve turned his head in time to see Kitt's gaze scan between himself and Thor — and settle on the Asgardian. "Thor, would you mind —?"

"Not in the least." Thor's hand was still on Kitt's slim shoulder, and now he gave it a reassuring pat before letting it fall to his side. "Lead on!"

Kitt spared a curt nod for Steve before striding toward the nurse, who turned and led them into the depths of the ward, leaving Steve alone to wonder, certainly not for the first time, just what the hell Tony Stark was up to now.

[TO BE CONTINUED]


End file.
